The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-10-01

don't believe 1t, Lynette answered rebel
liously. Lola declined further discussion,
and followed her silently from the iuhabi-
ted south front to the central part of the
building, where noise of hammering and
saving, of workmen's training feet and gruff
voices indicated the scene of the restora-
tions. Lynette opened a door, and they
found themselves in a great vaulted space
big enough for cathedral, where the work
men looked like so many bees as they
swarmed on high scaffoldings, toiled with
their loads up and down tall ladders, or
chung about the clustered capitals of the
pillars. The fireplace, in which an OK
might almost have been roasted whole, was
indeed feature, and seated in its eaver-
nous depth, carefully copying piece of old
iron work, was a young man in a dusty
velvet coat, with dishevelled hair. He
rose and came forward as they entered.
"May l ask, has Mr.. Orme decided
about those rooms2"
"Notyet," answered Lynette hesitatingly.
~ have just had a telegram from Mr..
Murgatroyd. He hopes to get down here
tonight, and l should have liked to be in
readiness for him" said the young fellow
with dissatisfied air.
81 will see what I can do, replied
Lynette, hurriedly. "Do you mind coming
back, Lola?" Lola did not object. "Send
Mrs Wygram to me- Lynette said to a
servant they passed on their way back to
the pretty morning-room.
A sedate, motherly woman in black silk
appeared
Mrs. Wygram."
ayes madam; will bring them directly;
all but the key of the Blue Room, as we
used to call it. Mr.. Orme keeps that him
SELF"
"Ah, then, can get it; 1 shall not
want the rest"
81 do hope, madam, you will excuse me
but you won't think of going there your
self ?"
"Why not?" asked Lynette, imperiously.
"Mr. Orme's orders were imperative
that no one should attempt to go there.
They aren't safe, indeed, madam"
81 shall do as l think fit" was all the
reply vouchsafed to Mrs. Wygram, who
withdrew, looking unutterable things.
"Don't be goose, Lynette," " began Lola
to empty air, for Lynette had fled. Up
the stairs, through her own room, to Johns
dressing room ran the naughty girl. There
stood Johns mighty old-fashioned bureau,
with its drawers and pigeOnholes and sliding
panels. Lynette had the keys of them
all. Her courage cooled as she peeped and
pried, first in one place and then in another,
and she vast just prepared to give up her
disobedient project when she came upon
the kay, 1t was big, rusty affair, labled
and wrapped in one of Johns silk handker
chiefs, with two smaller ones She seized
the bundle and ran without giving herself
time to think. Back across the broad land
ing she sped, down a long dark corridor
through locked door of an unused room,
and so through boarded opening into the
dilapidated central pile. She was in sort
of gallery, giving glimpses of the sea
through arched openings, ending in the
spiral staircase of the North Tower. She
paused for moment before ascending to
look askance down the deep gloomy shaft
which ended, she knew, in door opening
on the face of cliff many feet below; then
lightly ran up to landing, from which
one door opened. The key turned easily
in the lock, and she flung open the door
of silent, moldy-smelling chamber, lighted
by stream of dusty sunlight pouring in
through an uncleaned lattice window.
There was not much for it to shine on.
A tall and gaHnt hedstead, stripped of
hanglngs and bedding, an empty wardrobe
with halfshut drawers, toilet table. the
glass dim with veil of dust, and green
mass that once had been candle end in
one of the sockets That was all, except
print of Johns college over the mantel-
piece. Nothing alarming, and yet Lynette
| felt scared and uncomfortable. She made
a pretepee to hessalf of being busy, lifted
daintily her pretty gown from contact with
the floor, and paced the room carefully.
"Fifteen feet; very good length. We
might make it to open on the north eorri-
dor, l should think, Now for the width.
! The room was paneled In pinky gray,
with brown mouldings. The panels were
of all shapes aud sizes, so she was hardly
surprised, after pacing across from the
door by which she had entered, to find
herself in front of second The light
streamed through its key-hole and caught
her attention. She stood irresolute for a
moment, and then tried one of the two re-
naming keys, a small steel one, that looked
as if it might belong to patent lock; the
third key was a tiny gold or gilded toy,
4he door creaked stifiy and ominously,
Lynette thought,
She might as well go on, however. 1t
was only a large, light closet after all.
Just big enough to hold chair and a
table, over which hung portrait. Ali
A portrait, evidently an enlarged and
tinted photograph of beautiful and smil-
ing woman in fantastic dress, looking
straight at Lynette with bold, triumphant
eyes; eyes that she knew too well, poor
child the eyes of Lady Mildred. She sat
shivering and bewildeFed in the dusty vel
vet chair, looking at them in return with a
face Of piteous inquiry. The table under
meath held vase, and large casket of
gold and enamel of exquisite foreign work
manship.
Still looking into the cruel blue eyes of
her rival, Lynette rose, and mechanically
fitting the tiny gold key into the lock,
turned it and raised the lid. A strong,
rich perfume still hung about the quilted
satin lining; within were some few letters
tied with blue ribbon. Lynette touched
them with aversion, and dropped them as
her eyes caught some of the words, scrawled
in an untidy, schoolgirl hand on the most
gorgeous of note-paper. A long, soft lock
of red-brown hair lay beneath them and a
tiny velvet shoe.
She looked no further, but closing the
lid with bang, flung herself on the floor,
crying angrily, miserably, hopelessly. The
sun got round to her window, and passed
it before she could check the storm of jea-
lous despair that possessed her. She raised
herself at last, all tear-stained and soiled,
and looked at her pretty slender hand with
four cruel little wounds where she had
bitten it to prevent herself shrieking or
going into Mysteries.